The Silver Doe
by WildeAquarius
Summary: We know it was Severus who guided Harry to the sword in the frozen pond, and I always assumed he'd stayed to see what happened. This is my take on the destruction of the locket, from Snapes point of view. Oneshot, complete.


The Silver Doe

The sword was heavy in his hand as the office door swung quietly shut behind him. Severus Snape twitched up his thick black traveling cloak as he briskly made his way down the spiraling staircase. There was no danger, no necessity for caution, it was the Christmas holidays, all students had gone. Even the few who might have normally stayed at the school had left; glad, he knew, to be away from the oppressive atmosphere the school had gained under his rule. The staff too, had fled. With no students to protect from Death Eaters posing as professors, they'd left en masse, with plans they had not shared with their Headmaster. Filch was the only other breathing human remaining in the castle, and he, Severus knew, was encamped in his office with that blasted cat of his for company. Even the ghosts of the castle kept to themselves since the Express had carried off the students.

It was an odd mixture, Severus refused to allow himself to think; relishing the silence, the relief from the accusing stares he felt at his back, mixed with the hatred of the absence of others, for it was the quiet that allowed the ghosts of his mind to drift foreword, breaking through the brick wall he had so diligently built around them.

His clipped footsteps echoed down the corridor, rebounding back to him. Peeves popped his head out from the library wall, and Severus stopped, staring at the poltergeist, waiting. The expression of hopeful mischief on Peeves' face was quickly replaced by startled anxiety. He had, Snape could tell, been hoping it was Filch coming down the corridor, not expecting Snape to have released himself from the Headmasters office, he so rarely did so. Peeves glimpsed the sword in the Headmasters hand, his eyes widening before he nodded once to Snape and quickly withdrew his head from the wall. Severus' footsteps resumed their echoing gait down to the second floor and past the girls bathroom no one ever dared enter.

The first floor was colder still; the torch fires lining the corridors fought a losing battle against the snow packed outside walls, insulating the frozen air. Whispers of the specters in his mind called out louder now, memories rising to the surface in the silence of the hall. _Severus, I've been watching you. There is someone I think you should meet. _He pushed Lucius Malfoy's voice away before the memory could come fully to life.

He continued on, down the last staircase, it was there that he stopped to stare into the Great Hall, dark and cavernous without the twelve Christmas trees or floating candles. Like an open chest without a heart.

The house points hourglasses loomed dully in the shadows. Only the Slytherins had any points to speak of, the emeralds nearly filling the hourglass. Rubies barely covered the bottom of the Gryffindor hourglass. Severus sneered a little in the pleasure of the sight. _Add some more?_ Minerva McGonagall's voice and the thump of her walking stick rang through as if she had just spoken those words, not uttered them a year an a half ago. He regretted the loss of Minerva. The loss of her friendship, the camaraderie. Abhorrence shone from her eyes now when she was forced to speak to him out of necessity. Flitwick too had condemning eyes. Even Slughorn, his former Head of House, whom Severus had retained the most miniscule bit of hope might overlook the … _murder …_ incident, hadn't made even the briefest of eye contact with the new Head since term began. In fact, all the professors of Hogwarts, whom he'd once sat in front of as a student, who had aided him across the divide between student and teacher, and who now sat in front of him at staff meetings, all of them considered him a murderer, a usurper. Yes, he regretted that. But then, there was so much he regretted.

He slipped the heavy ruby encrusted sword into his cloak, withdrawing his wand with the same movement. With an almost lazy sweeping gesture of his arm, the oak doors swung open, and he passed through them, tugging his traveling cloak tighter to his throat in the cold open air. He stood silent and still as he stared across the school grounds. A thin trail of smoke drifted from the chimney atop Hagrid's cabin, a lone candle glowed behind the closed curtains. Icy patches had formed on the surface of the lake. The taste of soap filled his mouth and a phantom tug on his ankle drove him on. Down the path and through the winged boar bedecked iron gates, he forced himself to concentrate on the bite of the December air on his face, and the numbness creeping into his toes.

Just beyond the gates, he stopped, filling his lungs with frigid air. _Don't worry Dumbledore, I have a plan. _He closed his eyes, concentrating on the Forest of Dean and Disapparated.

It was even colder here, and much darker. A soft dusting of snow was patchy on the ground. Thick gray clouds drifted across the sky, covering the moon, soaking up the light. Moonlight would make his quest easier, at the very least might prevent his stumbling over the uneven forest floor, but he could not, and would not call attention to his presence. Bare trees towered over him, ice sickles hung hard and frozen from branches like miniature swords. Severus lifted his head, peering up into the velvety night sky. Few of the stars burned through the gray blanket of clouds. _The Willow, touch the knot, there's a tunnel, you'll find Lupin there._

His thick traveling cloak brushed over dead and fallen leaves, a single rat scurried across his foot. _"Muffalito," _Severus whispered encircling his wand around himself, silencing any noise his footsteps would make. _The Dark Lord has gone to the Potters cottage; he intends to negate the prophecy tonight. _Wormtails eyes had shone with excitement in his terrified face, as he chewed on one thumbnail.

The clouds swayed in a breeze that did not make it down to the earth, newly revealed moonlight lit the forest. Shadows enclosed him; long shadows of skeleton trees stretched across the leafy forest floor, and Severus traced the line of one silhouette with a long glance, his eyes landing on a patch of cold light shining through a patch of trees like a beacon. Severus trekked silently through the muck covered ground and found a pond, frozen in the mid-winter. He made his way over to its edge, and brushed frost off a few inches of the surface. Exactly what he'd been searching for, without his knowing it. _Diffindo_, he thought lifting his hand and the layer of ice cracked, several pieces jumping onto the frozen surface, two bobbed briefly before sinking down to the bottom.

The frozen air bit at him like a thousand doxies as he pulled open his cloak and brandished the sword from its hiding place. Holding the hilt of the sword up to eye level, he marveled for a moment in the glitter of the rubies in the moon light, and knew how Godric Gryffindor himself must have felt when he'd first laid eyes on it. _I sometimes think we Sort too soon…. _Severus knelt on the edge of the rift and gently slipped the sword into the water. It bobbed for a briefest moment before sinking smoothly to the bottom. With a wave of his hand, the ice formed again, as thick and frosty as it had been before he'd cracked it open. Turning his back on the pool and the sword, he walked silently away.

_Humenum revelio_ he thought, a few hundred feet further into the forest, knowing it was unlikely to have a result, also knowing he would have to start somewhere. And he was not surprised when nothing at all happened. The only change in the woods was due to the clouds breezing back over the moon, plunging him back into deep darkness. It was as if an assemblage of dementors had flown over the tree tops, bringing the insulation of loneliness he was too used to and he was left with only the company of the sounds of the dead leaves crunching under his feet as they rebounded off the inside walls of the muffliato charm surrounding him, reverberating up to his ears. _ Hide them all, then. Keep her – them – safe. Please._

Continuing on, drudging through the icy mud and broken branches, slipping now and again on a patch of ice, the weight of his mission delved deep into his bones. He was weary, the aftereffects of so many nearly sleepless nights and the effort of his journey. Plodding through the frozen forest, he wished for nothing more than his quest to be found, his mission complete, the fire in the Headmasters office and the comforting sleep murmuring of the portraits.

_It is merely desire, Severus. There are other women, more suited to your attention. More worthy of carrying the Snape blood. _He shook his head, clearing away the memory but not the shame of the surrender.

_Humenum revelio_ he thought again, and this time, caught a glimpse of a shiver off to his left, as if the shadows of the night were caught in a gust of wind no longer than a human breath. Severus stopped, astounded, and after a moment, turned and faced the shadow. _Humenum revelio_. The shimmering shadow formed again, and Severus, facing it fully this time, saw the outline of a sitting boy. It was most defiantly Potter. The shadow faded, leaving nothing but silky black forest in its wake, but Severus knew he was there.

A few moments breathing calmed Severus' for the task. His wand in hand, he closed his eyes, and allowed in the memory he had been pushing away all evening. Her laugh rang through first, then her smile, piles of long red hair filled in, as her breasts, hips, arms and legs followed quickly. And only then, her eyes. Lily. His wounded soul was suddenly warm and whole again. Sweeping his arm grandly though the air he said, "_Expecto Patronum," _in a dry, horse whisper, his words forming an iridescent cloud as his breath froze in front of him.

The silver doe Patronus burst forth from his the tip of his wand, leaping across the velvety night sky, drifting to the forest floor as gently as Lily had floated to the ground off the swing. Severus guided her through the grove, toward the place he knew Potter to be. Her bright white light illuminated several feet of the forest around her. A moment later, Potter appeared, as if pushing his way through a thick curtain, staring toward the light. Severus guided the doe out from behind an oak, silent in her movements.

Severus held his breath, it was this moment, this very moment that everything, hinged on. If Potter turned and walked back through the invisible curtain, Severus would have failed, and there was no telling how long it might be again before Phineas would hear another snippet of conversation that would lead them to Potters location.

For several long moments, Severus waited for the boy to move. But he did not. It seemed as if the boy was arguing with himself, wondering if there was danger in the apparition. If only he knew that no Death Eater, no true Death Eater, could produce a Patronus. Taking the chance that Potter would follow, Severus guided the doe, turning her around and toward the icy pool.

"No," Potter said "Come back." Severus ignored the plea, guiding the doe through the thick shadowy tree trunks. And finally, finally, Potter followed.

For minutes, they moved, the doe and Severus in silence, Potter's feet crunching through the snow nosily, as if he were not a wanted man. The icy pool appeared in front of the doe; Severus found a place behind two close growing oaks, with just enough of a division that he could see between them. Severus looped his wand gently; the doe turned her head toward Potter, confirming that this was the place he needed to be. Severus saw the boy break into a run, and he flicked his wand with a heavy heart. The doe vanished. Severus' heart folded in on itself as he stared at the place where she had been, blinking only once her evaporating image had burned completely away. Darkness enveloped him again.

"Lumos!" Severus could barely hear the word, but Potters wand tip ignited. As the wand and the light rose in Potters lifted hand, still, Severus assumed, doubtful of the doe. Potter suddenly turned quickly toward the pool. Has he seen it? Severus wondered, and a moment later, knew that Potter had indeed seen the sword, for the boy was kneeling at the edge of the ice, holding his lit wand aloft, directing the light into the depths of the water.

Several long, long moments drug by as Potter kneeled staring at the sword. What was he waiting for? The wand and the light swung round, as Potter searched the thicket, and Severus ducked behind one of the tree trunks and closed his eyes so that there could be no possibility of a caught glint. A moment later, the light fell off his face, and Severus felt it safe enough to reopen his eyes.

Potter was still kneeling on the ice, pointing the wand down toward the sword. "_Accio Sword." _Nothing happened, as Severus had known it would not. The conditions of need might be met, but the valor certainly was not. Idly, he wondered what valor Potter's mind would come up with. Potter began to circle the sword, deep in thought. "Help," he muttered after a moment, and Severus almost snorted. When the sword did not respond, Potter began to circle again.

"Come on boy, figure it out!" Severus mumbled.

And then, Potter did. He stopped his circular pacing and sighed. To be honest, Severus had sunk the sword in frozen water on purpose, somewhat glad the renegades had not decided to camp on the sea shore. Potter glanced around the trees again, but did not seem worried. Perhaps he had realized that no harm awaited him in the forest.

Potter began to strip off several layers of sweaters, and Severus rolled his eyes. An owl hooted from somewhere high and deep in the trees, and Severus, glad to have something to search for, looked away. "Diffindo." Severus heard the spell, and turned back just as the ice cracked for the second time that night. Placing the lit wand on the ground near the pile of sweaters Potter jumped in.

Several very long moments later, Severus felt as if his chest were going to explode, and he realized with a jolt that he had been holding his breath. With a gasp of fresh frozen air, he wondered what in the hell was taking Potter so long, the pool was not that deep, Potter should have been up by now. Something had gone wrong. Severus began to move out from behind the twin oaks when heavily falling footsteps met his ear, and a shadow came running out of the darkness. Quickly, Severus slipped back behind the two trees, and watched from the gap between them as Ron Weasley running toward the pool, shrugged off his rucksack and let it fall to the ground. Weasley quickly glanced toward the double oak tree Severus was behind before diving into the icy water and surfaced again a moment later, Potter clutched in his arms.

He nearly tossed Potter out of the pool and onto the snow, before diving down again, resurfacing a scant moment later, dragging the sword out onto the ice and pulling himself up out of the water. Both boys were panting in the exhilaration, coughing up water that had slipped it to their lungs.

Severus breathed a sigh of relief.

"Are – you – mental?" Weasley said panting, his voice hoarse in the cold. He stood over the crouched Potter, the rubies and silver of the sword glinting wetly in the moonlight. Weasley held something else in his other hand, but Severus could not see what it was. Potter stood, and Severus could actually see him shaking with the cold. "Why the hell," Weasley held up the hand that did not carry the sword, something small swung from a chain, "didn't you take this thing off before you dived?"

Severus clutched the trunk of the tree, and Potter began to pull his clothes on. The two boys conversation meant little to Severus, and he tuned them out, using all his concentration, his eyes narrowing with determination, trying to see what it was that hung from the chain. He heard Weasley say "I've come back." Come back? Where had he gone? And why would he have to sleep under a tree? Was he not sharing the tent with Potter and Granger? Phineas had not mentioned Weasleys name in any of his rambling reports when he returned from his visits, but Severus had assumed Weasley to have been otherwise occupied, likely sleeping.

Weasley glanced toward the two trees Severus was behind, and Snape moved quickly, finding another tree, further back, deeper in the thicket, that offered protection.

Potter was headed toward him, no doubt in investigation as to who had conjured the Patronus and led him to the pool. The boy could never leave well enough alone, always had to know everything, reacting without thinking. Always, always sticking his nose where it did not belong.

When Severus turned again toward the pool, Potter had rejoined Weasley on the ice. The two boys spoke, but Severus had moved so deeply into the wood, he could not hear their voices. Weasley held out the sword, but Potter shook his head, took the chain and what ever was hanging from it, and placed it on a rock.

The two of them argued for several minutes, Weasley even taking a few steps backwards at one point. Severus watching closely, trying to discover what it was they were doing. Why hadn't they returned to their tent? Were they arguing over the sword? Potter moved away, toward the rock and the chain lying on it. Severus watched intently, and Potter suddenly yelled "Stab," Weasley lifted the sword, as if he were going to pierce the chain with the tip, but his arms remained over his head, the sword tip pointing toward the sky.

And then Severus' blood ran cold as a horribly familiar voice filled the forest. "I have seen your heart, and it is mine." The Dark Lord? In the forest? Impossible. Potter yelled and the disembodied voice spoke again. "I have seen your dreams, Ronald Weasley, and I have seen your fears. All you desire is possible, but all that you dread is also possible…" It was nearly the same words The Dark Lord had spoken to Severus twenty years ago, when he had joined the Death Eaters. Voldemort had used Occlumency, looking into Severus' mind; had seen the greed, the lust for power. Seen the images of want and envy within him before declaring him fit to serve. "_I have seen your desires, Severus Snape" _The Dark Lord had said with what at the time Severus had considered a smile_, "and all are possible."_ Severus shivered with the memory, as he had once shivered with pride at his acceptance as the weight of the Death Eater mask laid upon his face.

Severus was pulled out of his memory by two rising smoky figures emerging from the rock. Potter and Granger rose in misty form, entwined. As the smoke figures taunted Weasley, Severus nearly went to his aid. Then the smoky Granger morphed into Lily in Severus' mind, so when the towering figure spoke; "Who could look at you, who would ever look at you beside Harry Potter? What have you ever done, compared with the Chosen One?" it was Lily who stood next to James, and spoke to Severus. Lily calling James the Chosen One, for it was he that she had chosen, wasn't it? Severus dug his fingertips into the bark of the tree he hid behind and closed his eyes tightly against the image of Lily and James sneering down at him. _I'm not interested_ Lily's voice echoed through his memory. _Save your breath. You've chosen your way, I've chosen mine. _James Potter. Quidditch hero. Hogwarts prefect. Lilys husband and father of her son. The Chosen One.

"Ron, stab it, STAB IT!" Potter yelled, and Severus almost joined in, his eyes flew open, the bark of the tree trunk biting into his palms. Yes, Weasley, stab it. Stab it. Make it stop.

"Who wouldn't prefer him, what woman would take you, you are nothing, nothing, nothing to him," the smoke Granger mocked Weasley and in Severus' mind it was Lily mocking him. And then the smoke Granger/Lily wrapped herself around the smoke Potter, entwining herself around his body, embraced him as she had never embraced Severus. _I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her! _Pressing her naked body against Potters, kissing him erotically.

Severus stared, eyes wide and unblinking, burning with the cold night air. His throat tightening, anguish and longing seized his heart, acid bubbled in his stomach and he thought he might be sick.

"Do it Ron! Ron - ?" Potters voice forced Severus to tear his eyes away from the looming smoke figures locked in their passion.

And Weasley finally moved. The sword swung mightily, silver and rubies flashing in the moonlight. And then the smoke figures were gone. Slipped into the blackness of the night sky as if they had never been, leaving not even a wisp of curling smoke in their wake. Complete and utter silence filled the forest again. Severus watched as Weasley let the sword fall from his hands, and sunk to his knees. Potter stooped to pick up the chain.

What the hell was that? Severus wondered, his heart beating so hard in his chest, his breaths coming short and fast, it was a wonder the boys could not hear his presence, even with the Muffliato charm. Severus rested his forehead on his hand, still clutching the tree trunk, and regained himself.

Potter spoke softly to Weasley, one hand on his back. After a few moments, Weasley finally stood and looked around the forest. Severus slipped back further behind the tree. After another moment, they began to walk down the path the silver doe had lead Potter from. The sword of Gryffindor in Weasley's hands.

Severus followed to make sure they found their way back, and when they disappeared through the black curtain of magical protection, Severus waited, listening to the creatures of the forest. He thought of Lily running away from him, following her horrible sister. Of a proud Lucius Malfoy introducing him to the Dark Lord. Of the dusty Hogs Head hallway outside Trelawney's rented room. Of Wormtail and of the Whomping Willow. Of Dumbledore falling off the Astronomy Tower. Of Voldemort and of levels of dark magic that Severus had never imagined.

The muscle in his left arm twitched.

**a/n: I had to use some of JKR's words in order to recreate the scene from Snapes POV, because, well, what happened, happened. But no malice nor plagiarism was intended, and I truly meant no harm. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it.**


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